"Very good," Trove remarked.
"Good? Why, it's jest as stiddy as a hitchin' post, an' purty nigh as stout. Feel there," said Tunk, swelling his biceps.
"You must be very strong," said Trove, as he felt the rigid arm.
"A man has t' be in the boss business, er he ain't nowheres. If they get wicked, ye've got t' put the power to 'em."
Tunk had only one horse to care for at the widow's, but he was always in "the hoss business."
Then Tunk lit his torch and went away. Trove lay down, pulled his blanket about him, and went to sleep.
XXIII
A New Problem
When Trove woke in the morning, a package covered with white paper lay on the blanket near his hand. He rose and picked it up, and saw his own name in a strange handwriting on the wrapper. He turned it, looking curiously at seal and superscription. Tearing it open, he found to his great surprise a brief note and a roll of money. "Herein is a gift for Mr. Sidney Trove," said the note. "The gift is from a friend unknown, who prays God that wisdom may go with it, so it prove a blessing to both."
Trove counted the money carefully. There were $3000 in bank bills. He sat a moment, thinking; then he rose, and began searching for tracks around the shanty. He found none, however, in the dead leaves which he could distinguish from those of Tunk and himself.